India

I’ve finally made it to the last phase of our India trip– Mumbai. But before I get into Mumbai photos, I need to share one last Goa picture that I forgot to include on my last post. Now you understand why cows on the beach made for an interesting time.

We left Goa to began the last leg of our trip. I was worried about returning to a big city because of how sick I got in New Delhi due to the air quality. However, the air quality in Mumbai was much better– probably because it’s on the coast. One of our first stops in Mumbai was the Gateway of India.

The main event of Mumbai was meeting more family. My dad’s two cousins, Suddah and Maddu live in Pune, right outside of Mumbai with their families. We met up for a late lunch, but not before going on a Lost My iPhone trek across the city.

Kayla, dad, Lars and I spent the morning walking around Mumbai, stopping in a store to buy some sweets. As we headed back to the hotel to greet the cousins, my dad felt around his pockets and realized his phone was missing. Naturally, we thought he was making a not-so-funny joke… but after a few minutes of him wide-eyed and persistent, we realized it wasn’t a joke. The cousins were due to arrive at the hotel in a matter of minutes, so we frantically made our way to the lobby. I opened my phone and logged into Find My iPhone with dad’s information. Lars dad and I hopped into the hotel taxi and chased the blinking blue dot through the city of Mumbai. It finally stopped moving and we were able to catch up to it. We approached a line of parked tuktuks and I jumped out of the car trying to locate the beeping phone. As I approached the tuktuk that was beeping, the driver sat up from the backseat where he was napping. He was obviously confused to see the family he had driven hours before, back unexplained. I reached into the tuktuk and grabbed the phone which had been tucked under the back cushion. I still can’t believe we managed to get dad’s phone back off the streets of Mumbai.

Paan, loosly meaning “leaf” is a combination of betal leaf with areca nut. Although it’s often chewed for its stimulant and psychoactive effects, there are many different types, all with different purposes. The type we tried was more of an after dinner “sweet” treat. Watching them prepare it was quite interesting.

Our trip to India was great– even though it took me years to properly document it. I just about ready to head back for round two!

I realize it’s been a while since we got back from India, but I finally decided to continue posting the remaining photos from our great trip. Phase 3: Goa.

Our time in Goa was unlike the rest of our trip. We were in total vacation mode– beaches, sunsets, pools, shopping and good food. We stayed at a hotel that sat atop a hill overlooking the beach– a perfect spot to watch the sunset.

The biggest difference between other beaches I’ve been to and Goa beaches were the cows and water buffalo. They were mostly harmless, however there was one near disaster. I was simply walking down the beach taking a selfie when a water buffalo lowered his head and rammed his horns towards me. If I had been just an inch closer, his horns would have punctured my torso, no doubt. The pictures below document the event. They don’t exactly portray the severity of the situation because I was so oblivious as to what was happening. I only became aware he was charging towards me once I heard the growing screams of a nearby group watching with more amusement than concern.

The only other beach encounters involved cows trying to snag the pakora off of our plates. They succeeded more than once.

The second craziest night market we went to was in Goa (the first was in Varanasi). It was the type of market that needed to be visited twice– the first time for making the rounds and soaking it all in, and the second to actually shop.

On our first day Lars and I walked the shore and explored the rocky bends of the beach. We found lots of little creatures and neat rock formations. Additionally, Mom, Dad, Lars and I took a day trip to a yoga center in order to take a class.

Overall, there was a lot of relaxation during our time in Goa. It was a much needed relief from the bustle of the cities.

We woke up the next morning and walked through the alleys of Azamgarh to make it back to the family’s house. We ate great pakora and drank hot chai before setting out on our adventure to the village.

The historic walk to Haathia ran through the streets of the city before hitting the bridge. This car bridge was new– when my father grew up in the village there was only a rickety walking bridge that often got washed out by the high waters.

Once we entered the village, everything was quieter and greener. The paved car bridge quickly turned into a dirt path which zigzagged in what seemed like a nonsensical pattern. We followed our cousins’ lead through the village towards the family home.

The family house has been in the family for over 60 years. It is the birthplace of not only my dad, but most of his relatives. Chinki (who is around 30yo) was the last one to be born in the Haathia house. As you can see in the photos below, the house oozes history.

After walking through the house, we walked over to our family’s patch of Guava trees. Although the tree patch wasn’t far, we paraded at a slow pace through the village. The fruit was hardly ripe, but both Dad and Lars tried the Guava. They found it too tough and bitter– but that didn’t stop our cousins who ate nearly the whole fruit, down to the stem.

We eventually made our way back to the family house, took a few last photos, and headed back to Azamgarh.

Many people do not know that my father, Alok, was born and raised in a small village in the Uttar Pradesh region of India. His village, Haathia, is across the Tamsa River, on the outskirts of Azamgarh city.

From Agra, we travelled to Varanasi– one step closer to my family’s hometown. [Varanasi sits on the Ganges River and is known in India as the Holy city.]

As I began to feel better I started to further appreciate the smells, tastes, and feels of Northern India. The air quality in the rural areas was not better, but it was easier for me to handle. Dust and dirt levels were higher, while car exhaust and burning plastic fumes were lower.

Dad’s Hindi was truly put to the test when he was coordinating our travels to his home town. After many phone calls back and forth, he concluded that his two cousins were driving to Varanasi to pick us up at 7am. We questioned why they were leaving Azamgarh (which was about 4 hours away) so early, but Dad told us not to worry. After waking up early enough to get ready and pack up our bags, my dad told us that he had misunderstood. The cousins were planning on leaving Azamgarh at 7am. This meant they wouldn’t get to Varanasi until 11 (at the earliest).

Alok’s cousins, Praveen, (also known as Hinay), and Keso, (also known as Bara Bhai, Big Brother), arrived shortly after noon. We loaded up the two cars and started our adventure towards Azamgarh. The drive was crazy. Some roads were no wider than the car’s axle, which wouldn’t have been a problem if it were not for the sharp turns and oncoming cars, cows, and bicycles. We stopped for a (much needed) break with steaming roadside chai and pakori.

We arrived at the family’s house and were greeted by Parinda with burning incense and ghee. My father was reunited with his aunt, (who is like a second mother to him), after nearly 30 years.

We all huddled closely to the table, with the rest of the family standing around our chairs, and listened to Amma tell stories.

The youngest generation of women stayed in the kitchen in order to prepare us a delicious snack of Ghughri. Amma asked Alok if he liked the Ghughri. He responded yes and told Ama that he liked the potatoes– probably because he couldn’t remember the Hindi word for green pees. She then proceeded to pick out the potatoes from the extra cup and give them to Dad. The women insisted on washing our feet, which is a tremendous sign of respect in Indian culture.

The rest of the time with family was a blur of posing for photos and communicating through a thick language barrier. Everywhere I turned, there was a flashing camera– documenting this historical reunion and first-time meeting of family members from across the globe.

We went up to the roof during sunset and watched flickering kites backdropped by a killer sunset. Once the sun set we went to the local temple with my dad’s cousin, Urchena, and her daughter Priti.

After the temple we spent some time at the other Azamgarh house. Cousin Chinki did beautiful henna for Kayla, mom, and I. We returned to the first house and were served a delicious dinner prepared by the women. We were served along Amma, however the rest of the family just gathered and watched as we ate. They refused to eat while we were eating– they made sure our well being was prioritized.